


Tango'ed Up

by Missy



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Hotel
Genre: Dancing Lessons, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Ghosts, Romance, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21996658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: They're here forever and there are only so many books they can read.  Why not take up dancing?
Relationships: Tristan Duffy/Liz Taylor (American Horror Story)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Small Fandoms Fest





	Tango'ed Up

They have all the time in the world these days, so that means filling in the gaps with hobbies. Sally has the internet, James has murder (though it seems he’s moved on to True Crime research these days); the Swedish girls have lots of sex and have – thank the universe – trained themselves out of murdering guests afterwards. 

Tristan and Liz read together, mostly. In the warmly and carefully appointed court behind the hotel, in the lobby. In the lounge. In hundreds of different rooms. They learned new names and came to understand the wonderful, soothing words of hundreds of different poets. 

Henry Ibsen. O.Henry. Saul Bellows. There seemed to be thousands of people to read about.

But they could only take so much stillness. Liz got out all of her tension by running the hotel and keeping things on the level. When Tristan began to get a little itchyfooted he didn’t have much to do. It wasn’t as if he could fall back on drugs, and he knew far too well all of the hotel’s ghosts by now. Human beings paled next to true love, anyway.

It was Liz who decided to teach him how to dance.

“I know how to dance, babe. I used to be a club kid.”

“That’s not ballroom, darling. Ballroom requires flare! Personality!” Liz said. “And we both have plenty of that.”

“So we’re gonna learn how to vogue?” he asked.

“Not that kind of ballroom. Though I suppose if Elizabeth found out we’re into that, she would help us out.” Liz put a classical record on the player. “A waltz,” she explained. “We move in interconnected steps, with our arms around one another. Eye contact is important.”

“Like sex?”

“Since when have we maintained eye contact during sex?” Liz teased. 

He rolled his eyes. “We make love face to face plenty of times.” 

“Oh, true, true.” She let him lead, his long arms carefully encircling her. “One two three,” she instructed gently. And Tristan followed her footwork, snorting, his rhythm in turn carefully paced.

“This isn’t too hard,” he said. “Am I supposed to do anything special?”

“No, just move in a box-shape,” she said. “I follow you, you lead. And I spend the rest of the night looking into your incredible eyes.”

“Babe, you sealed the deal three centuries ago, you don’t have to get all mushy on me.”

“So you don’t want to hear about what a splendid, wonderful man you are? My, I must be losing my touch.”

“Well…huh. No. Yeah, I do. Tell me more about how great I am!” he laughed.

“Well, you’re kind and honest. You’re good with the guests. You don’t fight with Elizabeth quite as much as you used to. You have good posture and you definitely know exactly how to keep me on my toes – literally and figuratively.”

“Well, thank you. I try my best to do that.” He sighed. “Okay, so how about…” he spun on his heels, dragging her in a gentle circle, making her dress billow out and her body swoon in concert with his. “A big turn?” he asked.

“Oh, a wonderful addition. Thank you so much, sir,” she laughed. “And if you want to dip me…” he did. The world went fuzzy and upside-down for a second, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. 

He kissed her in the dip, and then pulled her up out of it. “And then, back to boxing. Right in a square.”

“Yes, exactly,” said Liz. “Just keep moving with me.”

“Ahh, I’ve heard that before,” he said.

He hadn’t had much for her to teach, to be honest. It was as if he’d sprung from whatever Parisian fashion house knowing how to please a woman like her. But that was a different subject.

She let herself feel a thousand things at once when they touched. Dancing or with kissing, making love or making lunch, they were a unified combination. There were no substitutes to make, no new things to think. They had one another and they had the island of their love. It was all they needed or wanted.

Well. That, good fashion, entertainment, and their friends, of course. 

But all of the things they felt – and all of the things they dealt with together – were true and healthy things. The fights were easier to clean up. The messes fewer. Hell, when you’re a ghost cleaning up black mold and asbestos it has less of an effect on your form, helpfulness and true love aside. 

Tristan had pulled his weight, and she knew from experience that that was an optional idea for some men. But he was good to her, good to her friends. 

He was amazing that way.

“And as the song comes to an end,” she said, laughing between gulps of air, “you must be sure to come in for a bow.”

“A bow? Am I prince charming?”

“Yes, you’re my prince charming,” said Liz. “You’re a wonder.”

“So how do we bow without killing one another?” he asked her.

“Just watch my feet,” Liz instructed.

“Ok, so don’t trip over you…avoiding tripping over you. WILL NOT trip over you!” Tristan laughed in spite of himself. But he was doing a good job of maneuvering around Liz’ footfalls. 

But he didn’t do it – he kept his footing, kept his head, and managed not to fall over her feet as he pivoted them around in a circle and managed to get Liz in a comfortable position to bow her over.

Liz, obediently, stayed on her feet and successfully bowed in rhythm with Tristan. With this, they were finally done – and the dance was at an end.

“Did you have fun?” Liz asked. 

He nodded. “It’s not like, my usual dance style but I had a good time.”

“Good,” she said, flopping onto the bed and dragging him to it. “Let’s keep this up and do it tomorrow night!”

“Wait, what?” he laughed. But by then they were kissing once again, and whatever he’d wanted to say about his skills were lost in the emotions between them.


End file.
